


Illumination

by scholarlydragon



Series: Turning of the Seasons [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Care-taking, Drama, F/M, Gen, Injury, Nervousness, will they/won't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24241714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholarlydragon/pseuds/scholarlydragon
Summary: With the mines so close to the farm, Wren can't pass up the temptation to supplement her income with what she can wrest from the depths. Despite the dangers, and the warnings of the townsfolk, she has managed to become quite the skilled fighter against the monsters in the depths. But even skilled fighters can have missteps and one night, one misstep after another leaves her at the mouth of the caves on the brink of collapse.
Relationships: Harvey/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Turning of the Seasons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756120
Comments: 53
Kudos: 72





	1. Prologue- Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> With my most profuse thanks for Jessy and Alulah. This would not be what it is without you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparation is important but mistakes can spell disaster.

The crisp autumn air is like a soothing balm as it rushes into my lungs. After the stuffy heat of the mine, I could cry at the bliss of the sensation. My shoulder hits the worn wood of the cavern entrance and I lean heavily, savoring the reality of being back out on the surface. 

_ I made it. _

Fireflies flit over the surface of the lake and, for a fleeting moment, all I can think is that it’s never looked more beautiful.

All too soon, however, the euphoria wears off and pain hits me once more.

The sword falls from my nerveless fingers and I drop to my knees.

Everything hurts.

I’m fairly sure that every single inch of me is bruised. Nothing seems broken, thank Yoba, but that is the least of my worries. Exhaustion drags at me, fogging my vision. Worse, the clawed gouges that cover me throb with every beat of my pulse and I can feel several of them oozing blood. My head pulses to the same cadence. I know what that means. Poison. The drying remnants of slimes on my skin point to the source. Even through the haze of pain and fatigue, I can feel the burn of the muck in my cuts. 

Marlon had warned me ages ago about getting the stuff in injuries. On bare skin it's nothing, but something about it reacts horribly with human blood. Frantically, I struggle to remember what he had said about the timeframe needed to take the antidote before the danger of serious damage, but my sense of how long it took to come aboveground is so hazed with exhaustion that there is no telling.

Fumbling for my satchel one-handed, the other clamped to the wound in my side, I scrabble for the small glass bottle I’d brewed just that morning. I had no antidote with me, but swallowing down some Life Elixir should do enough for the exhaustion to get me down to town and the clinic. I bite back an automatic gag at the remembered taste of it, the heave gaining force as my head throbs once more, and I spend a moment retching into the scraggly grass.

Fighting to regain a bit of equilibrium, I return to the search. My trembling fingers sift through the gems and ore I’d fought to bring up from beneath the earth, and a frisson of fear darts through me as I encounter not just cold stone, but viscous fluid coating everything and soaking into the tough leather.

_ No… _

Throwing open the satchel wider, I paw through it in the moonlight and groan weakly as I find the rounded glass bottle and lift it out.

The neck of the bottle is cracked, fluid staining everything in my bag. There’s barely enough left for a single swallow.

I gulp it down, fervently hoping that it is enough. But other than a vague warmth that washes through me and dissipates rapidly, there is no other effect. I squeeze my eyes shut with a groan.

_ Fuck, Wren. You’re in for it now. _

Pressing one hand to my side, I brace the other on the hard-packed dirt and fight down the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm me. It had been all I could do to struggle back up from underground; now the journey down to the village seems like it might as well be to the moon rather than just down the mountain.

Sagging back against the wooden frame, I think frantically. No one knew I was coming up to the mines, so no one would be looking for me. I hadn’t brought my phone, so I couldn’t call for help. There was nothing to do, except… 

_ Linus. _

Craning my head up, I can just barely see the top of the tent over the ridge. Drawing breath, I try to call out to Linus, but a sharp pain below my ribs takes my breath away.

Sagging against the wooden frame, I fight to catch my breath. 

_ Just a moment. I’ll rest here for just a moment, then try calling again… _

A tide of black fills my vision and my voice falls to nothingness.


	2. Gathering Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey's quiet evening at home is interrupted.

The ruffle of pages blends with my exasperated sigh as I slap the journal shut. Keeping up to date with the latest medical news is all well and good, but there’s little point in trying to read when I’ve just gone over the same page five times and absorbed none of it. It’s been a disgustingly long and tedious day, I cannot seem to focus and, truthfully, there’s only so far I’m willing to go for academic learning.

_Who would have thought, after all those late nights spent in the university library? Guess I’m getting old._

Standing from the table, I take a moment to stretch, grimacing at the popping of joints, before heading into the kitchen, straightening my askew t-shirt as I go. It’s much too late for coffee, but some tea sounds like a lovely distraction from the unsettled feeling in my bones. Filling the electric kettle takes only a moment, and I find myself gazing out the window as the water heats.

A faint breeze rattles the leaves of the gnarled oaks just outside the window, the sky scudding with clouds that look like they promise rain. The forecast hadn’t been too optimistic about the chances, but something about the towering cumulonimbus seems ominous.

_Fits in with the rest of the evening, I suppose…_

Shaking my head with a self-deprecating sigh, I fold my arms and lean on the window frame. I fully recognize my mood is currently less than charming, and I shudder to consider what anyone else would think of me right now, were they forced to keep my company. Pensively dark mood aside, however, I cannot shake the sense that something is wrong. The walls of the small apartment seem too close, the air too still. Not claustrophobic precisely, but more like clothing outgrown. A decidedly uncomfortable way to feel about a home, but also not an issue that’s simple to resolve.

In an effort to distract myself, I focus outside, watching the drifting clouds obscuring and revealing the stars. Gradually, my attention drifts down from the sky, over the looming bulk of the mountain and the forested trails that I can just barely make out in the intermittent moonlight.

I had always found the view from my apartment somewhat comforting. The small backyard I share with Pierre’s store and apartment is just enough space to feel like I have an area to retreat to without feeling cramped, and I can see just enough of the wilderness to remind me that I live here instead of the city. This had been all that I wanted for so long.

_Why does it suddenly seem like it’s not enough?_

I huff a humorless laugh, the answer clear in my mind almost as soon as the question arises. I know precisely why this mundane bachelor attic no longer seems to suit.

_Wren._

I can’t get her out of my head and thoughts of ‘what-could-be’ have gleefully disrupted what had been an otherwise contented existence. I have found myself watching for her visits to town, eager for the sight of her smile. The most I’ve been able to nerve myself up for, though, is returning her cheerful wave as she passes by when I’m out in the square.

_Coward_.

With a growl of annoyance, I pull my glasses off and scrub a hand over my face. So many times, I've rehearsed to myself how I might ask her out. Perhaps for coffee or dinner at the Stardrop. Or even just a walk in the woods. But, even in my own head, I stammer and the tangled words perish unsaid as I fervently promise myself that _next time_ will be different.

But it never is.

As the whistle of the kettle splits the air, I turn from the window, grateful for the distraction, and busy myself with measuring the loose leaf peppermint blend into the tea ball and dropping it into my favorite chipped mug before pouring water over it. Catching sight of my own reflection in the wavering surface, I sigh and smooth my mustache, fidgeting.

_The more things change, the more they stay the same, don’t they? Still losing my chance at what I really want._

I return to the window once more, mug in hand, watching as the dark tendrils emerging from the tea ball stain the water a rich brown.

I can’t shake the feeling that once more my fears are robbing me, only this time the consequences could be exponentially worse. A mirthless laugh escapes. There was a point at which I would have been horrified at the idea of anything feeling worse than having to give up on flying.

Looking back over my shoulder, I glance at the model airplanes displayed along shelves and suspended from the ceiling in the main room of the apartment. Carefully assembled and lovingly painted odes to an ended dream. The radio crouches on my desk, an old friend patiently awaiting the next time I seek a link to the skies.

With the passage of time, the hurt has dulled to a misty sort of regret. I do still wish I could have flown, but I am truly happy with what I’ve become. Even the decision to stay here in the valley in this little clinic rather than moving back to the city has proven to be rewarding over time.

The clinic could be busier, but I actually feel as though I’m making a difference in the lives of the people here. There’s no amount of money that could bring that satisfaction. Even flight would not have brought the same kind of contentment, though it took a good long while to be able to admit that to myself.

I would much rather be here in this little clinic, struggling to make ends meet, than in some faceless practice in the big city, comfortably raking in the cash. Years had slipped by and that reality had been enough. Until now...

With a frown, I pluck the tea ball out of the mug and set it aside.

It wasn’t just anxiety and fear of heights that dashed my dreams of being a pilot. But I can’t blame an inability to act with Wren on poor eyesight. If I lose this chance, I will have no one to blame but myself.

_BANG!_

An undignified yelp of alarm escapes me at the sudden noise, quickly followed by a curse as I jump and hot tea sloshes from the mug, spattering onto my leg.

A stilted series of _thuds_ quickly follows and my subconscious recognizes them for what they are well before my heart rate has calmed from the startlement. I’m already moving, setting my mug on the rickety table before bolting for the door and down the stairs. Knocking at the clinic door, at this hour and with that level of fervor, can only mean one thing.

Someone is in trouble.

Before I’m halfway down the stairs, not even bothering with the lights, I’ve already mentally run through the clinic stock of supplies and frantically sifted through what sort of emergency might have befallen one of the villagers at this time of night.

A muffled voice follows a fresh flurry of banging. 

“Doc! Hey, Doc Harvey!”

_Linus?_

I frown as I push through the doors into the clinic waiting room. If Linus is here, then… A cold flow of dread curls around my heart and pulls it down to my gut. For Linus to be banging on my door, when he so rarely comes down from his mountain…

It isn’t far to go across the waiting room, but time seems to slow to a crawl as horrified thoughts race through my head. Would it be Robin or her family? Some shop accident? Maybe Marlon or Gill? Would they have been foolish enough to go down the mines in the middle of the night?

The mines.

The curl of dread cinches tight and I suddenly know, with a horrible premonition, what awaits me on the other side.

_Please, no…_

With a shaking hand, I throw the lock back and wrench the door open, and it’s all I can do to suppress the horrified whimper that claws at my throat.

_Wren..._

Linus is carrying her cradled across his body, his weathered face creased in worry, and for a frozen heartbeat, I can only stare. The professional in me is already cataloging her visible injuries, an automatic triage of blackened eyes, scrapes and gouges, and an alarming amount of blood. The rest of me takes in the limp loll of her head against Linus’ shoulder and her wan, pale face, and I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms and weep.

This is everything I’d feared from the moment she told me that she went down into that damned mine to search for treasure.

I shove down everything that is not professional focus, desperately settling into the physician mindset as though I’m pulling on the white coat.

I’ll never get through this if I don’t.

Heart hammering in my chest, I scoop her into my arms, taking her from Linus. He must have been kicking the door with both hands occupied holding her, which explains the erratic banging. Cradling her limp body securely, I turn back into the dark clinic, catching sight of Linus following behind me.

“Hit the lights,” I tell him, with a jerk of my head toward the panel of switches next to the door. “The one on the furthest right will turn on everything.”

A moment later, I’m blinking as the glare of fluorescents bathes the room and I shoulder through the door back into the clinic proper. A heartbeat later, the patter of Linus’ bare feet follows me.

Wren’s head falls against my shoulder as I hurry down the hall and I can feel a wash of warmth soaking into my shirt as the scabbed cut on her forehead breaks open. I have to savagely push back a surge of fear.

There will be time enough to break down later. I have a job to do now.

I hurry into a room and lay her gingerly down onto the bed before doing a more thorough triage, taking her pulse and counting breaths. The rise and fall of her chest is steady enough, though terribly shallow and her pulse flutters, weak and rapid, against my fingers at her wrist.

Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I think furiously. Muscle Remedy for certain. Life Elixir if the stock hasn’t gone bad yet. Gauze for bandages and skin closure strips for the cuts. A suture kit just in case she has deeper wounds...

"How can I help?"

Linus’ soft voice breaks my train of thought and I glance back at him. He’s shifting from foot to foot, glancing around as if uncomfortable being indoors. With a deep breath as though he’s trying to fortify himself, he focuses on me once more.

“Please, Doc. What can I do?”

It takes all my willpower to turn away from Wren, but I manage to talk to Linus as I stride to the cabinets that line the room.

“I need to get her clothes off and see how badly she’s hurt. If you’re okay with staying, I could use a hand gathering supplies and bandaging her up.”

He nods and follows, taking the small boxes and trays of supplies as I pull them out. In short order, we are back at the bedside. I note with a knot in my gut that Wren hasn’t so much as stirred.

I manage to get her workboots off in one piece, but there’s no hope for her jeans and shirt. Even if I were in favor of jostling her more in order to get the clothing off, the fabric is a tattered mess of rents and blood. Even the tough denim of her pants is a lost cause.

Swiftly, I cut through the ruined fabric, laying it away from her body. Linus turns away and I am thankful for his discretion. I have a feeling that Wren would be as well. My heart sinks further and further with every inch of skin I uncover. Seemingly every inch that isn’t bearing a cut or scrape is bruised, and a coating of dried blood and slime discolors much of her skin.

Fervently focusing on detachment, I assess what needs my attention most urgently.

For the most part, the injuries don’t look too deep, only numerous. A good cleaning and closure strips should suffice. The gash to her side is more worrisome, however. It’s deep enough that I can tell it will need stitches. First, I need to ensure her body has what it needs to heal as soon as possible. 

Setting an IV is the work of a moment and I adjust the bag of fluids to a rapid drip, adding a broad-spectrum antibiotic in case anything got into her wounds.

Linus turns back as I pull a sheet up over Wren, leaving her side bared. I direct him to the package of cleansing cloths and saline wound solution.

“If you would, please, take the cloths and start cleaning some of the blood and muck off of her. Hand me the saline solution, I need to flush this wound before I stitch it up.”

Linus nods and we begin.

The minutes slip to hours as we work, washing, bandaging, and repairing. She should have the Muscle Remedy and Life Elixir, but it’s dangerous to give it while she’s unconscious. The bottles sit on the counter for the moment, doing nothing but drawing my anxious glances.

Linus works carefully and diligently and gratitude fills me for his stabilizing presence. My nerves are tattered by anxiety at the best of times, which this is decidedly not. The fact that this is Wren I’m working on pulses like a struck nerve at the back of my thoughts and it’s all I can do to keep focus on what needs doing. I have to focus on the next wound, the next cut, without thinking about who is on the bed in front of me. 

After what feels like a small eternity, we have finally done all that we can.

Straightening with a groan, and rubbing my lower back, I let out a long breath before looking over at my helper.

“Thank you, Linus,” I murmur quietly. “You were an enormous help.”

“She’s been a good friend to me, Doc. You both have. It’s the least I could do. Is- is there anything else I can do?”

Underneath the genuine question, I can sense his discomfort and anxiety to get out of town and back to his tent. With a smile, I clap him on the shoulder.

“I think we’ll be ok right now, Linus. You can head out. Thank you again.”

He nods and vanishes back through the door. As I hear the front door swing shut behind him, I sink down into the chair next to Wren’s bed and let out a shaking sigh.

Now that the immediacy of the moment is past, I have little to hold back the anxiety that’s been pooling in the back of my mind all night as we worked. In the litany of stitch and wash and bandage, I couldn’t let myself think about anything but the next task. Now, with no distractions, I cannot quite stave off the trembling in my hand as I reach out and smooth her damp hair back from her forehead.

Heaving a few deep breaths, I wrest myself back under control, pulling off my glasses to scrub at my face with one hand.

_She’s okay now. Linus found her and brought her here as soon as he possibly could. A little hurt, a little bruised, but she’ll be okay._

I slip my glasses back on and sigh, my thoughts from earlier in the evening surfacing once more. It’s difficult to not see this as some sort of prodding on the part of the universe to tell her what she means to me. A faint smile tugs at my lips. It shouldn’t have had to take landing in the clinic for me to resolve to tell her how I feel, but I’m not going to let yet more time slip away.

Gently, I lift her wrist, curling my fingers against her pulse, my eyes already on the clock to count out the beats. At the feeling of the butterfly patter, though, alarm arcs through me. The fluids and stabilization should have slowed her rapid pulse, but the flutter was just as fast as it had been. As my gaze snaps back to her pale face, a thread of muddy memory surfaces. Not long after I’d come to Pelican Town, Marlon had told me of his first encounter with slimes in the mine and how awful he’d felt when some of the innards of the creatures had gotten into a wound he’d sustained. He’d told me horror stories of untreated slime poisoning. If treated quickly, it was little more than discomfort. Left unattended, a bad enough case could kill.

Slimes… Wren had been spattered with slime…

With a horrified cry, I wrench myself at a run to the cabinets. Yanking them open, I frantically paw through drawer after drawer, tossing packets of gauze and supplies to the floor in my careless haste. Finally, at the back of one drawer, I find what I seek. A small leather satchel with a dusty vial of ugly brown liquid.

Slime antidote, provided by the Adventurer’s Guild, and swiftly forgotten in a town where no one ventured to the mines.

Scooping up a syringe, I dash back to Wren’s bedside, drawing out a measure of the antidote as I go. Fighting down the trembling in my hands enough to inject it into the IV line, I wait, breath held, anxiously feeling Wren’s wrist for any change in her pulse.

Gradually, so slowly that I thought I imagined it at first, the flutter becomes firmer, then begins to slow.

My knees give out, and I sink back into my chair, both the impact and my relief driving the held breath from my lungs with an explosive rush.

Trembling, I pull my glasses off and rub a hand over my face. I’d missed it. I’d seen what was all over her and hadn’t put two and two together. With no way to tell if I’d administered the antidote in time, all I can do is wait until she wakes. _If_ she wakes…

The accumulated fear settles on me like a tidal wave. I could lose her. I could lose her before I’d ever been able to tell her how I felt.

A sob claws its way up my throat as my head falls into my hands and tears spatter down.


	3. Umbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey is conflicted and Maru is insightful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back and done some editing on the Prologue. I realized that Marlon would have certainly told Wren of the danger of slime muck when he introduced her to the mines. Also added chapter summaries to previously published chapters.

A gentle touch on my shoulder launches me out of fitful sleep and I bolt upright, gripping the back of my chair. I’d turned one of the hard plastic clinic chairs backwards in an attempt to find some kind of sleep support and I can feel creases etched into my cheek from dozing on my folded arms.

Blearily, I peer up, willing my heart rate to slow, meeting Maru’s apologetic eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she murmurs softly before glancing at Wren’s huddled shape in the bed. I can see the worry in her face. “What happened?”

Stifling a groan as I shift, I grab my glasses from the bedside table and slip them on before standing and stretching. The ache in my back is an insistent reminder that I am most definitely too old to be falling asleep sitting up in a chair.

“Linus brought her in,” I tell Maru quietly as I move to check Wren’s vitals. She is stable, her pulse slow in sleep, but steady. I breathe a sigh of relief that seems to come all the way from my toes. “Something must have happened down in the mine, but I don’t know what. We cleaned her up and stitched what needed it, and…” I trail off as fear tinges my relief like ink dropped in water. I still don’t know how much damage the slime poison did to her before I realized what was happening. 

_ If I was too slow... _

Shaking my head, I try desperately to push back at the vicious voice in the back of my mind, without much success.

_ What kind of doctor forgets something like that? _

I knew perfectly well what dangers lay in the mines. There's a very good reason why  _ I _ don’t go up there. But, I let myself get complacent with the routine issues of village life. I hadn’t had to deal with anything worse than a sprained ankle or broken arm in years. I let myself get out of touch with the realities of where I live and now it’s hurt someone I care for.

Maru’s hand on my arm jolts me out of the spiral of self-castigation and I look over at her. She is watching me, worry in her brown eyes, silently encouraging.

I shake my head, almost automatically, as though I can deny my own failure. But I can’t. The reality of Wren’s unconscious form demands the truth. 

I whisper, unable to keep the worry and shame out of my voice. “She was covered in slime and it… It got into her cuts.” Maru’s eyes go wide. “I- I didn’t realize what it was until she’d been here for hours. I gave her the antidote as soon as I knew, but that stuff could have been in her system for hours already. I’m hoping that w- with some rest, she’ll wake up this morning…” A lump in my throat chokes the words and I fall silent. 

“She’ll be okay, Harvey,” Maru murmurs, “I’m sure of it.”

I try to take a steadying breath and nod. “I hope so.” In an effort to distract myself, I check the IV bag and tubing. There is still a fair bit of fluid left, but it will need replacing before noon if Wren doesn’t…

With a shuddering breath, I cut the thought short.

_ I’ll face that when we get to it.  _ If _ we get to it. Don’t make trouble where there is none. _

If only I could make my anxiety listen.

Maru is watching me, a worried crease forming between her brows. “Harvey, have you managed to sleep at all?”

I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug as I squint at the bottle of antibiotics, tipping it to insert a syringe into the rubber top. Clear liquid rushes to fill the vacuum as I withdraw the plunger. “Some, I guess? I think I really need to invest in some better chairs. These aren’t very conducive to rest.”

Maru snorts. “I could have sworn that wasn’t really their point. Why didn’t you just go upstairs? It sounds like it wasn’t too bad. You did what you could and she wasn’t going to go anywhere for at least an hour. You could have left a call button and grabbed a nap. For that matter, I would have come in early if I’d known you were up so late.”

I can feel the heat of the blush on my face as I s lowly add the antibiotics, lingering long after the plunger has met the top of the syringe, hoping to avoid eye contact for as long as my sympathetic nervous system gives me away . “I- I just didn’t feel right leaving her down here alone. I wanted to- keep an eye on things.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Maru watching me and I can almost see the moment the pieces slot into place in her mind.

_ Damn it. _

I should have known she’d figure me out.

I try to prepare myself for any number of questions she might ask. I’m reasonably sure that Maru won’t be tactless or prurient. It’s not her style. All the same, I’m not quite ready for her to simply fold her arms and smile that knowing grin.

“You like her,” she murmurs, and my face heats enough that I’m shocked it doesn’t throw sparks. I duck my head, fiddling with the IV line, wishing like hell that for once in my life I could be smooth when caught out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even to my own ears, the denial sounds weak and it’s clear that Maru doesn’t buy it. If anything, her grin grows wider.

“Sure you don’t. You’re as transparent as a pane of glass, dear doctor.” She sinks down in the chair I vacated. “I’ve noticed some things since Wren moved here. I wasn’t completely sure, but now? I should have known never to dismiss a hunch. I also know that you don’t tend to spend the night at the bedside of a patient who isn’t actively bleeding out. So…” She tilts her head inquisitively as she lifts one hand, counting off her questions. “How long and does she know?”

I had thought it beyond the limits of the human body to blush this hard.

An automatic refusal crowds to the tip of my tongue. I’m not prepared to answer her questions this morning, no matter how well meaning. Not after the night I’ve had. Not when I haven’t even been able to answer questions from myself.

As I smooth Wren’s tangled hair back from her forehead with one hand, though, I realize there’s no real fight in my reticence. Maru is a dear friend and I have no real objections to her knowing how I feel.

_ Once again, it all comes back to being a coward. If I don’t voice it, I don’t risk. If I’m the only one who knows, then I’m only in danger of breaking my own heart. _

I’d been so sure of myself as I sat there, deciding that Wren coming to the clinic was the impetus I needed to be open with how I felt. But my resolve seems as tenuous as a spiderweb in the morning light.

_ How can I hope to tell Wren how I feel when I can’t even admit it to Maru? _

Maru watches me, her inquisitive look fading to concern the longer I am silent. Floundering for a chance to regain some equilibrium, I nod in the direction of the door. “Let’s go out there?” Wren waking and overhearing my fumbling explanations to Maru is the absolute last thing that I need.

Maru nods and rises from her chair, following me out to the front counter. I can see the morning sun gleaming through the front windows of the clinic, lighting up beaded water droplets on the panes. It must have rained after all. The absurd similarity between this morning and last night strikes me suddenly. I’d felt so unsettled last night, chafing under anxious fears, but I’d thought there was no constraint except my own peace of mind. Now, the looming storm clouds have broken, but my own tension remains. I don’t even have the luxury of thinking I have all the time in the world to get over my fears. The huddled figure of Wren in the bed seems burned into my memory, a constant reminder of the possibility of loss. I sink down onto the stool behind the front desk and Maru claims the other, still watching me with concerned eyes.

“Harvey?” she says quietly, gently prodding. 

I shrug and close my eyes as I force out some truth. “I don’t know how long it’s been. Does it really matter?”

“Only in that I don’t like the idea of you tormenting yourself for nearly a year.” Maru sighs. “I assume that means the answer to my other question is ‘no, she doesn’t know.’”

I huff a humorless laugh. “That would be correct.”

“Do you intend to tell her?”

My breath catches at the question. “It was all I could think of last night while I was sitting there.” For hours until I’d fallen into fitful sleep, I’d watched Wren and agonized over what it could mean if she knew how I felt.

“Take a chance, Harvey.” Maru’s use of my given name is as warm as her small hand on my shoulder. “Wouldn’t you rather know for sure?”

Yes. And no. The idea of Wren’s rejection terrifies me and I can’t quite rid myself of the nagging voice that says there’s no hope for anything else. I’m just a small town doctor with broken dreams. 

“She won’t want me.” Even speaking the words drives a spike into my heart.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Maru smile. “Now, where did you get a silly idea like that?”

Frowning, I turn to face her and she holds up a finger, forestalling my objections.

“Just one moment, doctor. I want you to set aside all those worries and anxious thoughts and use that great big brain for a moment.” She ticks off points on her fingers as she makes them. “You are handsome, articulate, intelligent, and charming. You have a tendency to anxiety, yes, but that gives you an attention to detail that not many people have. I’d hazard a guess that our lovely farmer friend would be  _ very _ interested in such a catch.”

Having my attributes listed off, even if I disagree with them, does nothing to let my blush subside and I duck my head, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as Maru goes on, a smile in her voice.

“Now, don’t think it slipped my notice that you didn’t answer my question earlier. Wouldn’t you rather know for sure whether she’s interested?”

I can’t quite bring myself to speak the words, so I only nod, but Maru is satisfied.

“All the more reason to seize the chance now,” she says quietly, “Wren won’t hate you for it, I promise.”

My instinct is to laugh, but beneath the anxiety, I know that Maru is right. With Wren, I do risk rejection, but I have no danger of ridicule. In the time she has been in the valley, she has shown nothing but patient cheer in her dealings with the people of Pelican Town.

“I do know that,” I murmur and Maru grins.

“So why not take the shot? You won’t know unless you try.”

“You’re maddeningly persistent, you know that?”

She laughs brightly. “So I’ve been told. I do think it’s one of my more charming qualities.”

I laugh with her. “I’d have to agree. It does make you an excellent assistant. Though I’m not sure I’m as fond of the scrutiny being turned on me.” I give her a smile to take any potential sting out of the words, and Maru sticks her tongue out at me.

Chuckling, I glance at the clock and have to bite back a groan when I see what time it is. The clinic will be opening in an hour and a night spent in a chair does not count as anything close to the sleep needed to see patients.

Maru watches me with concern. “You know, we could leave the clinic closed today. We hardly ever have walk-ins and there are no appointments scheduled today.”

I groan again. “I don’t like that as a precedent, you know that.” I’d always seen it as a slippery slope to close the clinic just as a personal convenience. In my time in the valley, I’d closed the clinic only a handful of times and only when I was too sick to see straight.

“I do. But I also know that discretion is the better part of valor and you look very much like you spent the night in a chair.”

I frown. “If I just get some coffee, I’ll be fine.” I shift in my seat, grimacing as the fabric of my shirt pulls unpleasantly. I hadn’t noticed the odd feeling in the time since Maru had come in and we’d been talking. The shirt feels oddly stiff and crackly, right where-

Cold lances down my spine as I realize what it is. Dried blood from where Wren’s head had rested on my shoulder last night as I carried her. In all the hectic activity and then the fitful night, I hadn’t even noticed. My hands tremble as I take my glasses off and rub my face, trying to quell the fresh bubble of anxiety. Maru’s voice is earnest when she speaks.

“Harvey, take the day off. If anyone has an emergency, we’ll see them, but you need some time. Also, this will let you sit with Wren if you want to.”

With a sigh, I nod, accepting. As much as I don’t like the idea of being closed, I like even less the idea of trying to see patients when I’m too distracted to think. Maru stands and squeezes my shoulder.

“I’ll run over to the Stardrop for some coffee and breakfast.”

At the idea of food, my stomach grumbles loudly. “Coffee would be wonderful, Maru. Thank you.”

“Least I can do.” She grabs her purse from the shelf behind the counter and makes her way to the door. Curiosity tugs at me.

“Maru, what had you noticed? Since Wren came to the valley, I mean.”

She stops and looks back with an enormous grin. “You’ve smiled more in the time she’s been here than you have in all the time I’ve known you, Harvey. You light up when she’s around. I’d thought that it was just friendliness at first, like the two of you meshed in a way that you hadn’t with any of us. As time went on, I got more and more of a hunch about it. I’m pleased I was right.” With a cheeky wink, she slips out the door.

Shaking my head and laughing, I stand and make my way to my office. I should go upstairs and shower, but I can’t quite bring myself to leave Wren alone for longer than I have. I have a spare shirt in my office closet for accidents and errant spills- a toddler with a stomach bug in the middle of a day fraught with too many patients to run upstairs had convinced me of the value of a backup shirt in easy reach.

As I change, I catch sight of myself in the little mirror on the back of the closet door and grimace. I do look very much as though I’ve spent the night sleeping in a chair. Squinting at my reflection, I try to see what Maru described and try to imagine a world in which Wren is receptive of my advances.

I can’t quite manage it. All I can see is a man with too many worries to get out of his own way.

With a sigh, I lean forward and rest my forehead against the wood of the door. Anxiety stole one dream from me. I can’t let it steal another.


	4. Tinder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren wakes up.

The first thing I’m aware of is how comfortable I am.

There’s a strange feeling that, by rights, I should be much more uncomfortable right now, but I can’t quite recall why. Without the burden of memory attached to it, I cheerfully let the feeling slip away.

I can tell I’m lying on a bed. I’m on my side, curled beneath a light blanket. The mattress is soft and welcoming, but there is a subtle strangeness to it. The realization filters in that I’m not in my own bed, which is weird. 

_Where am I…?_

More senses filter in.

There is a soft, irregular rustling sound from somewhere nearby. The ticking of a clock. A smell of antiseptic. Small aches and throbs cover me. There is a peculiar stiffness in the crook of one elbow. Fatigue swirls through me. I’ve clearly been sleeping, but I still feel as though I could sleep for a week. Not only that, I feel as though I’d fall over if I even think too hard about standing up. I frown a little as remembrance surfaces from murky depths, tugged free by the thought of falling. I’d fallen not too long ago… I remember dirt under my hands and the clang of my blade hitting the ground. 

Pain. Exhaustion. 

Fear.

_The mines._

Like a flood of light into a darkened room, memory emerges from the fog of exhausted sleep. I remember the long struggle up to the surface, the poison, finding the ruined Elixir, and darkness taking me before I could call out for help.

I’m in the clinic now. I must be. How I got here is a different question, but I let it rest for the moment, thankful beyond words to have been found. With the benefit of memory, I can now identify the aches and pains as the wounds I’d suffered down in the mines, closed and cleaned. Best of all, the telltale ache in my head of the slime poison is gone. I must have been given the antidote. 

I crack my eyes open.

As I’d guessed, I am in one of the clinic rooms. The overhead lights are only half lit, leaving most of the room in soft shadows. A plastic bag dangles from a battered stand next to the bed, slowly dripping fluid into a line that snakes down and under my blanket. That explains the odd stiffness in my elbow.

Harvey is sitting in a chair next to my bed, leafing through a medical journal, turning the pages too quickly to actually be absorbing anything he’s reading. He’s turned a little to the side, his profile toward me and I take a moment to study him. I’m a little shocked at the odd thought that I’ve never taken the chance to simply _look_ at my friend. Perhaps it is the situation. So often, when I see Harvey, it is in the professional setting of the clinic or the social setting of a village festival. This, now, is a strange mix of professional and casual. We are in the clinic, but he is dressed in an untucked shirt and jeans, with sneakers on his feet. The odd mix and unfamiliarity makes everything seem strange and new.

His glasses have slipped down his nose a bit as his eyes flick over the pages of the magazine, and his hair is rumpled even more than usual, lifting in tufts and curls. I have the sudden, strong urge to run my fingers through it. One corner of his mustache twitches up as I watch, as though he’s quirked a smile at something he read.

Dark smudges lie like bruises under his eyes and he looks rumpled. Even his mustache looks drooping and tired. He looks nearly as exhausted as I feel. There is a paper coffee cup with the logo of the Stardrop Saloon on the table beside the bed and, as I watch, Harvey lifts it and takes a sip.

I must have been in a bad way if he’s here. I can’t see the clock from where I am and there are no windows, so I have no idea what time it is, but I can’t imagine that Harvey doesn’t have something better to do with his time than simply sitting here with me. 

Gratitude fills me just as much as the tiredness. In the time since I moved to the valley, I’ve come to see Harvey as a good friend and I’m touched that he would have gone so above and beyond what might have been expected of him.

“Hey.”

I flinch at the sound of the croaked word. My voice sounds as though I haven’t used it in weeks.

Harvey bolts upright in his chair, the magazine fluttering to the floor, eyes wide and startled. He darts the scant distance to the bed, immediately drawing a penlight from his pocket and checking my eyes, then feeling my wrist for my pulse.

“Wren! How are you feeling?”

I laugh a little. “I was just thinking that I could easily sleep for another week but other than that, I feel remarkably well considering how I last remember feeling. I assume I have you to thank for that?”

He blushes and bobs his head in an erratic nod. “Er, yes. Linus brought you in and we worked together to patch you up.”

I smile and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll have to go thank him once I’m out of here. Thank _you_ , Harvey, for what you did.”

He ducks his head and turns aside, clearly embarrassed, but he does belatedly return the affectionate squeeze. “Don’t- um, don’t mention it.” He picks up a bottle I hadn’t noticed on the bedside table. “I’d wanted to give you this last night, but it was too dangerous to try to get you to drink. Now that you’re conscious, do you think you can swallow some Elixir?”

“Oh, yes, please!” It will do wonders for the fatigue. I’ll probably still have to take it easy for a few days, but a little extra rest is infinitely preferable to being fully out of commission.

With gentle hands, Harvey helps me lift my head enough that I can swallow when he tips the bottle to my lips. The taste is as awful as ever. It’s all I can do to suppress gagging until I’ve taken it all and I have to actively remind myself of the benefits so that I don’t spit it out.

I sink back against the pillow and, almost instantly, I can feel the Elixir working. The spread of warmth through my limbs begins as it did last night outside the mines, but instead of fading after a moment, it builds and grows, bringing a sense of wellbeing that chases the dragging weight from my muscles. Even the cuts and scrapes seem less painful. There are still deep aches in my muscles, but this is more like overuse. The fatigue has almost completely vanished.

Harvey is watching me carefully and I smile up at him. “Better already, doc. Thank you.” He lets out a relieved sounding sigh and the notch between his brows smooths. 

“I have a bottle of Muscle Remedy, but I’d like for you to wait a bit before taking it. It’s better to let the Elixir do its job first.” He lays the back of his hand against my forehead for a moment before withdrawing and resting it on the side of the bed. “You don't have a fever,” he says, “and you didn’t develop one over night. Good signs all in all.” He hesitates for a moment, before going on, a troubled look in his eyes. “You had slime poisoning.” 

I nod. “I realized when I got to the surface that I was starting to feel symptoms of it. A _nasty_ headache. When I saw my bottle of Elixir was broken, I was really worried about making it down here. I tried calling out for Linus, but I passed out before I could.”

Harvey closes his eyes, worry clear on his face. My heart twists a little in my chest. He seems to fret so much about taking care of everyone in town. I’m simultaneously sorry to have worried him and touched that he did worry after me.

“It wasn’t-” He begins to speak softly before halting for a moment and taking a deep breath. “It wasn’t until you had been here for some time before I remembered what Marlon had told me about slime poisoning. I should have put two and two together and realized you were in danger of it with those cuts and the muck all over you. But it wasn’t until later when your pulse was still abnormal that I realized. Wren… I’m sorry.”

He looks so troubled that I have a near irresistible urge to hug him.

_Surely he’s not beating himself up for that… What am I thinking? Of course he is._

“Harvey,” I reach out and take his hand that rests on the bed. He looks startled at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. “You are an excellent doctor, but you’re still human. You never go up to the mines. Hardly anyone around here does. I wouldn’t expect you to remember something like that when you have no need to.”

He frowns, mustache tilting. “That’s no excuse.” 

I squeeze his hand. He has no reason to worry about this, no reason to beat himself up for it. “I don't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself. Please. I’m here now, Harvey. You’re here now. Everything is fine.”

He sighs after a moment. “All right.” It’s clear he’s unconvinced, but he seems at least willing to let it go for the time being. I make a mental note to check with him later. I don’t want him stewing over this perceived failure.

“So,” I ask him with a small smile, pulling my hand back. “When do you think I can get out of here? For that matter, what time is it?”

Harvey squints at the clock on the wall behind my head. “It’s just a bit after 11. If you’re feeling all right, I don’t see any reason why you can’t go home now.” His lips and mustache twitch as though he is about to speak, but he is only silent for a moment before finishing, somewhat lamely. “We just need to get that IV out and get you a change of clothes.”

My eyes go wide. I hadn’t even realized I was stark naked under the blanket.

“I’m sorry. I had to cut your clothes off in order to treat you. You had some nasty cuts that were still bleeding and I didn’t want to risk jostling you in order to get to them.”

“It’s ok. I just… I guess I didn’t quite realize how bad it was. Thank you again for looking after me, Harvey.”

He blushes and looks away and I smile a little. I’d known he was the bashful, anxious sort from the moment I met him, but I hadn’t realized just how adorably awkward praise made him.

He clears his throat. “I think I might have a spare pair of scrubs stuck in a closet somewhere around here. I ordered several sets for my assistants when I set up the clinic, but Maru never liked wearing them, so she chose a nurse’s uniform and I just stuck the scrubs in a closet.”

“Scrubs will work just fine. Thank you, Harvey. I’ll bring them back to you.”

He blushes a little and nods. “It's no trouble at all, honestly. You’d be helping me clean out a closet by taking them off my hands.” He pulls his chair over and sinks down into it. “Let’s get that IV disconnected first.”

I obligingly extend my arm out from under the blanket, and Harvey picks up gauze and bandage tape from a small pile on the side table and bends to work. His touch is sure and gentle as he clamps and disconnects the line. As he presses gauze over the spot where the IV needle goes into my arm, he flicks a glance up to meet my eyes with a smile. “Take a deep breath. This will sting a bit,” he murmurs, and I do so but the gentle yet steady motion he uses to pull the needle leaves no pain in its wake.

Harvey presses the gauze tightly in place with his thumb while lifting my arm up with both hands. “Keep your arm elevated for a moment,” he instructs, and I comply. Harvey folds my arm on itself, securely trapping the gauze, and picks up the bandage roll. He frees the end and lifts my forearm once more, wrapping the bandage around my elbow several times. 

“Now, you will want to keep this on and dry for about 4 hours, but you should be good to remove the bandage after that. If it bruises or swells a bit, you can apply ice for twenty minutes at a time, but if it gets bad, I want you to call me, and I want you to come back in tomorrow for a follow-up regardless.”

“Yes, doctor.” I nod dutifully with a cheeky grin and Harvey rolls his eyes with a grin of his own.

“Very cute. I hope that I can trust that you will do as I say regardless of sass.”

I pull a comically solemn face. “Yes, doctor.” 

Harvey rolls his eyes harder, but he laughs as I’d hoped.

“I should have known you’d be a problem patient,” he mutters, still chuckling. “Right, let me see if I can find those scrubs for you. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He stands and crosses to the other side of the room, rummaging in a low cabinet, and it’s only a moment before he returns with a plastic wrapped package of blue fabric. He opens it and pulls out the fabric to reveal a pair of scrubs.

“I had to take a guess on which size but I think these will work. If they don't, let me know. I have a couple others that we could try.”

I smile. “I'm sure they will be fine.”

He hesitates a moment, and clears his throat. I can see a pink tinge rising in his cheeks.

“You, uh-” he pauses and clears his throat again. “You might still have some feelings of dizziness when standing. If you, er- have trouble while you’re getting dressed…” He trails off and I give him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be careful and call out if I need help.”

Harvey somehow blushes even deeper and nods, leaving the scrubs on the end of the bed as he wordlessly ducks out into the hall.

With a chuckle, I cautiously swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. I don't feel completely well by any means. However, the Elixir has done a great deal to help me feel better. With slow, careful movements, I pull the scrub top over my head and the scrub bottoms up over my legs.

The scrubs are definitely too big for me, but not unworkably so. Rolling up the leg cuffs and cinching the drawstring tight suffices to secure the pants and I turn in search of my boots, finding them after a moment in the corner, next to the discarded pile of my clothing.

I spare a moment’s regret for the ruined clothes as I pick up my boots. Those had been my favorite broken-in pair of jeans.

_Ah, well. Losing some clothes is a small price to pay for being alive._

As I sit and pull my boots on, sparing another mourning thought for my socks, I reflect on my remarkable luck. If Linus hadn’t found me, it’s entirely possible that I would have been up on the mountain until the slime poison killed me. If Harvey hadn’t had any antidote. If, if, if… I suppress a shiver.

_If this isn’t a sign to be more careful, I don’t know what is._

My boots tied, I rise and make my way over to the door, pulling it open. Harvey is standing in the hall, hands in his pockets, a picture of awkward nonchalance.

At the sound of the door opening, he straightens and I emerge into the hall, holding my arms out with a theatrical flourish. “Well? How do I look?” I’m well aware that I must look more than a little ridiculous in muddy, battered work boots and too large scrubs. Instead of laughing, though, Harvey smiles. It’s warm and open and I can’t help thinking that it looks good on him. The thought bubbles up in the back of my mind that I want to make him smile more.

“You,” he says, “look fantastic.”

Suddenly self-conscious, I drop my arms and rub the back of my neck, giving him a crooked grin. “Fantastic, huh? I think you need to get your glasses checked.”

Harvey shakes his head, smile still firmly in place. “Wren, at the worst parts last night, I was terrified that I wouldn’t see you stand again, let alone be about to walk out of here. Given all that? You look fantastic.” I try to sputter thanks past a tongue-tied blush, which effort fails utterly as he goes on. “I also happen to think scrubs suit you.”

As though the words had escaped without asking his leave, his eyes go wide and he ducks his head, red-face and abashed. My own embarrassment cannot stand in the face of his and I find myself smiling just to put him at ease.

“In that case, I think I might have to wear them more often if they suit me so well.” 

Harvey sputters and I take pity on him, changing the subject.

“Do you happen to know where my satchel is?”

He frowns, some of his equilibrium seeming to return with the focus on my question, though his face is still a deep red. “I don't. I'm sorry. Linus didn't have a bag when he brought you down. Maybe he has it in his tent?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to check with him later.” I'm not too worried about the bag in all honesty. The loss of what I found in the mine will hurt a bit but it’s nothing I can’t weather. I have enough saved and stashed that I can take a hit to my foraging income budget without too much inconvenience.

Letting out a deep breath, I look up at Harvey and smile. “Thank you, again, Harvey. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Wren,” he says quietly. “It’s the job, but more than that… you matter a great deal to me.”

“You matter to me, too, Harvey. A lot.”

I can see him swallow and his mouth works for a moment as though he is deciding what to say. After a few beats pass, he lets out a breath and says, “I’ll walk you to the farm to make sure you get home safely.”

I frown at him. “What about the clinic? I haven’t seen Maru. Don’t you need to stay?”

He shakes his head as he gives me a small smile as he leads me out into the waiting room, then out to the square. He explains as he locks the front door and drops his keys back into his pocket, “We closed the clinic for the day and I gave Maru the day off. I’m at liberty to see you home.”

The walk is a pleasant enough one. The early afternoon sun is warm without being hot, and the cluster of woods around the old bus stop is full of birdsong. Harvey watches me attentively as we walk and I’m just about to tease him over it when the world seems to tilt, my feet tangle, and I stagger sideways into him.

Strong hands steady me and I lean against Harvey, trying to regain my balance.

“It’s the Elixir,” he murmurs, “I think you were a little at the edge of what it is meant to do. It’s got your body a little off kilter to refresh like that so fast.”

I nod, forehead pressed against his chest, willing the dizzy fit to pass. It does so, but slowly. “I’ve never been quite so wiped before taking it before. I didn’t know it did this.”

Harvey laughs quietly, but there is an odd cadence to it. His hands are warm on my elbows as he supports me, watchful for another sign of weakness, and I’m not sure if there is a trembling in his hands or if its my own arms shaking. “It’s not something I would have wanted you to experience,” he says softly, a timbre to his voice that I can’t quite put my finger on. “Fortunately, it shouldn’t last long. If we get you home and resting, you should feel better in just a few hours.”

I nod and step back from him. Harvey’s hands twitch against my elbows for a moment before they drop and he watches me carefully. When I tuck a hand into the crook of his elbow and we resume walking, he only places his other hand over mine and watches the path for errant stones.

When we reach the farmhouse, I push the door open, thankful that the Valley is safe enough that I don’t need to worry about locking my door. Without knowing where my bag ended up, I would have been locked out otherwise.

Harvey settles me on my battered old couch, pulls off my boots, swathes me in the old blanket I keep draped over the back, and busies himself in the kitchen. I’m too amused at the idea of his hands-on professional attitude extending to my home to be annoyed at the intrusion. I should have guessed he’d be like this. After all, this was more of a house call than a social visit. An odd pang pulses through me at the thought of Harvey in my home simply to visit. In all the time I’ve lived in the valley, I can’t recall ever simply having him over.

_Something I’ll need to change._

Before long, he reappears, a steaming mug of tea and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in hand. He settles them on the coffee table as he kneels next to the couch and pulls a bottle of Muscle Tonic out of his pocket, setting it next to the tea. “I want you to wait another two hours or so, then take this. It should take care of most of the remaining problems, though you should still take it easy for a few days.”

I nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Harvey. For everything.”

He gives me a crooked smile and tucks my hair behind my ear. “You’re welcome, Wren. It’s no trouble at all.”


	5. Striking Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusions are reached. Action is needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me through the slow burn here. I promise we are getting there. Just another chapter or so of setting up. This story will have 8 chapters, but I have a plan for this series to be *extensive*, so I'm laying the groundwork and planting seeds for many things.

My mind is twisting as I walk back to the clinic.

I can't stop thinking about Wren sitting on the couch as I left. She’d been adorable sitting there in those oversized scrubs, wrapped in a quilt. I’d been near overwhelmed with the thought of holding her while she rested, my arms tucked around her shoulders.

_ I’d stroke her auburn hair with one hand and she’d look up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes… _

With a frustrated growl, I shake myself.

_ Get ahold of yourself, Harvey. She’s not yours and for all you know, she never will be. Not unless you manage to actually  _ say _ something. _

I’d wanted to. I’d been tempted the entire time we were at the clinic, then at the farmhouse. But it hadn’t seemed right. It would have made me the biggest asshole in the world to turn to a woman so recently terribly sick, and say ‘You’re so beautiful I can’t think straight. Please date me?’ 

So I’d tamped my emotions down and opted to take her home instead. I told myself I stayed only to ensure she was okay, focusing desperately on professionalism. I’d tried hard not to dwell on how her body had felt pressed to mine as I’d steadied her on the way to the farm. I’d tried hard not to think of how much I’d wanted to shift my hands from her arms to her back and just hold her as tight as my heart insisted.

When the moment finally arrived where she had looked well enough that I couldn’t justify hanging about as a doctor, I’d given her instructions on keeping the stitches dry and taken my leave. A nagging voice in the back of my mind insisted that I could have justified staying as a friend, but I had feared blurting out the feelings surging forward in my heart 

_ She’s in no shape to take any sort of advances. Even mild ones. _

I still have to try hard to not think of my well intentioned hesitation as further delay.

It did reassure me a great deal to see how quickly she had improved. Even though I’d left before she’d taken the Muscle Remedy, Wren had looked remarkably well all things considered. Still tired, certainly, but the Elixir had removed much of the bone-deep haggard look I’d seen in her eyes when she had first woken.

She would be fine. I was sure of it. I was less sure about myself.

I needed a plan. I had always done better with focusing past my crippling anxieties when I knew when or how I could act. To be sure, they were still present, but a known course of action always helped immeasurably. It was what had gotten me through med school, and I felt I could say (without being accused of too much hubris) that it was what made me a good doctor. 

Knowledge was my guide, my companion, my ally when I faced difficult decisions. I could rely on knowledge to formulate a course of action and give me much needed confidence that it was the correct one. Staying up to date on the latest medical research let me be secure in knowing I was providing my patients with the best care available, given the budgetary constraints of my small clinic's overhead. The path from diagnosis to treatment had its own rocky outcroppings, but it was a consistent one. I knew I was good at what I did.

_ A good doctor… _

I try to shove away the unwanted memory of last night’s failure, but it throbs in the back of my mind like a wound. It nags at me, feeling all the sharper for my inability to pin down why..

I run a hand through my hair as I walk, nervous energy begging for an outlet.

_ Why can’t I just let this go? _

She had said not to worry about it and that she didn’t blame me, yet I can’t stop blaming myself. I find it actually unforgivable that in the moment that it mattered, I just  _ didn’t know _ ...

I stop in my tracks at the edge of the square as epiphany breaks like sunlight through clouds.

_ I didn’t know… _

_ That’s it. _

I’d always seen the practice of medicine as a means to manage my anxiety. I  _ knew _ how to treat injuries and illnesses even when I didn’t know how to handle anything else. For this, I had to rely on, to be  _ certain of _ , my store of knowledge. Yet, when it mattered for someone I care about deeply, that knowledge had failed me. I had failed myself and nearly failed her.

Despite the warmth of the afternoon sunlight, I feel cold.

I’ve been so used to keeping track of everything, of the comfort of knowing everything I need to know to provide excellent care with minimal complications. But now it’s failed me and it’s failed me in the worst sort of way.

Anxiety rises in my gut at the thought.

My breathing shortens, a cold sweat breaking across my skin, and I grasp desperately for my grounding exercises, running through what I can feel, hear, and see until the knot of fear begins to ease. The sight of sunlight through leaves, the feel of the late spring breezes, and the sound of the birds gradually begins leeching away tension.

The sound of footsteps across the flagstones of the square breaks into the moment, and I jolt around to see Pierre walking toward his shop, carrying a takeout bag from the Stardrop. He raises a hand in greeting and calls out, “Hey, Harvey. I was hoping to see you today. I heard the banging last night. Is everything okay?”

I return the wave somewhat lamely as I resume my walk to the clinic door. Having been startled out of the centering exercise, it hasn’t had the fully desired effect and nerves still tug at me.

“Yeah, it's- it's fine. Linus brought Wren down from the mountain. She had a bit of trouble in the mines but I patched her up.” I keep my voice as nonchalant as I can. Pierre cares about Wren as much as any of us do, but I’m not sure how much my voice will give away the turmoil I’m feeling and I have no desire to spark his curiosity any further than necessary.

He shifts the bag in his arms and gives me a relieved smile “That's good to hear. I'm glad she's okay.” He fishes his keys from his pocket. “It's a good thing you're here, Harvey. We’re lucky to have such a dedicated and competent doctor.”

“It’s- it’s the job.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck, uncomfortable. 

“You’re definitely the best doc we’ve had here.” He chuckles. “Back when we first moved here, there was this doctor here. I’d swear he’d gotten his license out of a cereal box.”

Suddenly desperate to avoid a long-winded, however well meaning story, I blurt out, “Pierre, I’m sorry, but I need to be going.”

Pierre blinks a little, looking surprised and not a little hurt. “Oh, well, sure. I’ll be seeing you, Harvey.”

I sigh, guilt twisting my stomach. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I can only plead lack of sleep.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Think nothing of it. We’ve all been there. Besides, I think my food is getting cold.”

Once Pierre flashes a final awkward smile and vanishes inside, I pull out my own keys and turn to open the clinic door. I stop, suddenly reluctant. What would I do with myself if I went inside? There would be no patients. Maru was at home. I could try to focus on chores in the clinic, or find something to occupy myself with in the apartment, but the idea of being cooped up inside was viscerally unappealing.

The idea of going for a walk is much more attractive and I pocket my keys once more, walking automatically toward my normal shaded spot under the oak tree at the side of the square. As I go, though, I find my feet turning up to the stairs up to the old Community Center. 

I don't normally go up here. It's a little too close to the woods for my taste with the area so run down, but something about going up the mountain seems appealing. 

Stretching my legs appears to be stretching my subconscious hang ups as well. 

I trudge up the battered wooden steps to the top of the cliff. I would ordinarily never come up here. The only thing worth spending time on is the playground and I’ve been too big for something like that for quite some time. The wrecked old Community Center seems to loom threateningly even on the brightest days, and the woodland just beyond it is a little too wild for my taste.

I grimace.

_ Such dignity, quivering about spooky buildings and trees. Get over yourself. _

Pacing slowly around the field, I wrestle with the butterflies swarming in my gut.

_ I can’t make a plan when there is so much I don’t know. _

Yet I can’t know what I need to know until I’ve made a plan and acted on it. There is no way to know if Wren is actually interested in me unless I ask her and that requires such a leap of faith that it nearly makes me dizzy.

I try to grasp the resolution that I’d found before, when Wren being in the clinic had seemed like an impetus from the cosmos to act, but I can’t quite find it. The unsettled turmoil in me jostles every attempt to center.

_ Yoba, why can’t anything ever be simple? _

I make my way over to a bench beside the fountain and sit down. The water plays against the cracked stone of the fountain and the sound is curiously relaxing. I find myself relaxing, physically if not necessarily mentally, the warm sun and sound of water easing tension.

Wren had said I mattered to her.

While I am reluctant to let myself hope that she could have meant as anything other than a friend, even in my current state of mind I have to admit that it is a solid basis on which to hope for more. 

The sound of boots on gravel draws my attention and I look up to see Demetrius approaching, a leather satchel hanging from one shoulder.

I laugh. “Is everyone conspiring to walk up on me when I’m thinking? You’re the second one.”

Demetrius grins. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a conspiracy, now would it?” He sinks down on the bench beside me, letting the satchel drop to the ground with a soft thump. I can hear the rattle of rock and metal inside. “How are you doing, Harvey?”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure.” I blow out a long sigh. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours.”

Demetrius nods. “I’ll bet. Maru told me about what happened. She and I went to talk to Linus and we got Wren’s bag. She also told me about you, that Wren being hurt hit you hard.” Demetrius’ gaze is apologetic. I can tell he’s uncomfortable with having information gained out of turn. “Do you need anything?”

I shrug a little, giving him a reassuring smile. “I think I’ll be all right. I’ve had worse sleepless nights.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I watch him carefully. “What did Maru tell you?”

“That you sat up with Wren all night while she was injured. That she’s never known you to do that with a patient before. That she’s a bit worried about the both of you.”

“Maru is sweet to worry.” I watch as a frog clambers up the side of the fountain and leaps into the water. “She’s right. It’s been a long time since I was that worried about a patient and I couldn’t do anything except sit up with her. Even thinking about doing otherwise felt wrong.”

Demetrius chuckles softly and, startled, I snap my gaze to him. He’s watching me with a smile and the exact same scrutinizing look Maru had given me that morning.

_ Oh, hell. _

I sigh. “You and Maru get the same look whenever you’ve figured something out.”

He grins, delighted. “She comes by it honestly.”

“Are you going to pepper me with questions about how and when?”

He shakes his head with a wry grin. “Nah. Maru and I are a lot alike, but that’s much more her style. I will admit I’m curious about what you plan to do, though.”

I laugh despite myself. “You know, as much as I’ve been asked that, and asked myself, I have no idea. I mean, I know I should talk to her. But… It’s like the words tangle together whenever I even think about it.”

He nods sagely. “Trust me, I know what you mean. I had a similar sort of problem when I was courting Robin. You should have seen me when I was trying to tell her how I felt. Just about stammered myself to pieces.” He settles back into the bench and tilts his face up, closing his eyes in the sunlight. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could actually dissolve in the reagent of anxiety and seep into the earth.”

He laughs. “I suppose there is a non zero chance of that happening. But in reality, Harvey, what is the worst that could happen?”

“She says no. Maru was insistent this morning that Wren won’t hate me for asking.”

“Maru is a smart girl,” he says, grinning with a father’s pride. “I can’t imagine that Wren would end up hating you.”

“I don’t want to risk losing her friendship either.”

He nods again. “Understandable. But I think some risks need to be taken. Otherwise…”

He trails off meaningfully. I know exactly where he’s going.

“Otherwise, I stay miserable and wondering forever.”

“Exactly, my friend, and that’s no way to be.”

_______________

After dozing on the couch for a few hours, and taking the Muscle Remedy, I'm feeling much better and ready to try venturing out. It's more of an automatic need to check on my crops rather than really wanting to be outside. The idea of curling up on the couch or in bed and doing something mindless for the rest of the day and night sounds very appealing. I know it's the residual weariness that the Elixir did not heal.

I pull my boots back on and ensure that the scrub bottoms are cinched up and thump my way out the door.

I walk through the rows of plants, looking them over critically. None of them seem to be the worse for wear for being unchecked for a day, aside from some over-watering.

The sprinklers went off on schedule and with the rain, the ground is definitely on the soggy side. It takes a moment to get around and set all the sprinklers to ‘off’. The plants shouldn't be hurt too much by this little bit of extra watering, but I don't want to risk more.

All in all, not too bad for being out of commission for almost an entire day.

As I inspect the farm, thoughts of Harvey keep me company. The doctor had been acting strangely, even more so than normal. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was different, though. He’d been himself, just…

_ Even more Harvey than usual.  _

I snort.

_ Nice, Wren. Very eloquent. _

In my time in the valley, I had gotten to know each of the villagers fairly well. Perhaps not as best friends, but I at least knew birthdays and basic likes and dislikes for everyone.

Harvey had quickly become one of my favorite people from the moment I first came to the village. His easy presence, despite his nervous disposition, had always been comforting to me. I had never been able to spend too much time with him given his work schedule and my farm schedule, but I always enjoyed running into him whenever I went into town.

My mind wanders back to when I saw him when I first woke up, and how I’d felt so oddly that I’d never really  _ seen _ him before. The entire day had been full of Harvey oddities and feelings I’d never expected to associate with him. From how much I’d just wanted to see him smile, to how reassuringly solid he’d felt when I’d stumbled against him on the walk home. Being incredibly dizzy at the time, I hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it but, in thinking back, I find myself wanting to lean on him again. I want to wrap my arms around him, bury my nose against his shirt, and inhale the soft aroma of sandalwood that always seems to cling to him. I find myself lifting the fabric of my scrub top, hoping to catch a whiff of his scent.

I stop dead in the middle of the field.

_ Why am I feeling like this? _

The answer hits me in a rush.

I have a crush.

_ Since when? _

I have to laugh at myself a little. Does it ever matter when crushes start?

I hadn’t expected to find this when I moved to the valley. In reality, all I’d wanted was a fresh start. If anything I’d been trying to move  _ away _ from relationship issues. In the year I’d been in the valley, I’d been so busy with trying to get the farm up and running that I hadn’t had the time to consider romantic pursuits.

Now that I’ve realized, though, I can’t say I’m upset at the idea. Harvey is an attractive, intelligent man and I already value him deeply as a friend. Would he be interested? Which question presents a new issue. I’ve never seen him socially with any of the women in the village. Or any of the men for that matter. He could have no interest in dating whatsoever.

I walk back to the farmhouse and inside, my mind in a whirl.

The doctor is not precisely my type, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my life is that the way things are is rarely the way they remain and ‘types’ are not nearly as reliable as they could be.

_ Besides, I’d wager a kind face and gentle eyes would go a long way to fulfilling most anyone’s type. _

I remember all the times I’ve met up with him in the village, just in passing, or at a festival. Harvey has always had a kind word for anyone he meets, anyone he interacts with.

He is a good man, a good doctor.

But more than that, I feel at ease with him in a way I haven’t with anyone in a long time. He’s… reassuring, is the best way I can think to describe it. But even that is insufficient. That is the polite word for this friendship space we’ve occupied for the last year. Now, this feeling in my gut requires a new word, one I haven’t found yet.

It’s been rare that I’ve found that with someone.

A sense of unease breaks over me like a wave. The last time I let myself feel this for someone, it ended terribly and I fled as far from the city as I could get. Can I trust it again? I can’t imagine Harvey treating me poorly. From everything I’ve seen of him since I moved here, he seems very much the kind of man who would rather cut off his own leg than hurt someone else.

At the end of the day, no matter what I do, I will be taking a risk. A risk to friendship and a risk to my heart. But there is something to be said for the benefit of taking the leap just to see what’s on the other side.

At the end of the day, there’s no way to know if Harvey is interested in me unless I ask.

I smile to myself. 

_ I need to go to the clinic tomorrow anyway. Doctor’s orders. _


	6. Smoldering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren has her followup appointment.

Humming quietly, I push open the door to the clinic with one hand, the cotton tote in the other swinging gently. As the door chime rings softly, Maru looks up from her magazine. Her professional mien remains in place for a moment before falling to a warm smile.

“Wren!” she exclaims happily as she hurries around the counter and wraps me into an almost bone-cracking hug. “How are you feeling?” I laugh as I return the hug with just as much warmth, though one-armed as I hold the bag out of the way.

“Still a bit on the tired side, but so much better with some sleep.” When she releases me and steps back, I grin and hold out the bag. “I brought some thank you gifts.”

She shakes her head. “You know perfectly well that you didn’t need to do that.”

“Even if I didn’t need to, I wanted to.” Reaching into the bag, I lift out a pie tin and a small package, wrapped in paper and taped shut. “I brought you a rhubarb pie and coffee beans for the doc.”

Maru beams. “Oh, wow! Thank you so much! I can’t believe you were feeling well enough to bake!”

“That Elixir is a miracle.”

Maru cracks open the pie tin and takes an appreciative sniff. “Oh, Yoba, that smells amazing. I love your baking so much. Thank you, Wren.”

I smile at my friend’s enthusiasm. “You’re welcome.” I heft my bag once more, the package of coffee beans weighing it down. “Is Harvey here? He asked me to drop by today for a small check up to see how I was feeling after what happened.”

She grins and I would swear there is a twinkle in her eye. “He should be in his office. You can go on back. We don't have an appointment scheduled for another 30 minutes.” This time I’m certain there’s a twinkle in her eye. I blush and smile, giving her a small wave as I duck through the door, wondering what she knows.

As I walk into the back rooms of the clinic, I do my best to steady my nerves.

I spent last night and this morning running through over and over what I wanted to say, discarding option after option. Even after giving it extensive thought, I had no concrete plan, no script, only vague notions and the desire to say something. I figured if nothing else an awkward blurt might come in handy.

I knock softly on the office door.

“Come in!”

Even the sound of his voice makes me smile and I shake my head at myself before I push the door open.

_Wow, Wren, you’ve got it bad._

Sitting behind the plain but sturdy desk is the man himself.

He has a stack of folders and papers spread on the table on the desk in front of him. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, a blue tie with subtle silver stripes across it knotted at his throat. He looks up as I come in and smiles broadly. 

“Good morning, Wren. How are you feeling?”

I can't help a smile of my own. His warm enthusiasm coupled with my recent decisions lends a lightness to my heart.

 _Wren, you are hopeless._

“Well, Doctor Harvey, I'm feeling quite well. I do believe I have you to thank for that. As a matter of fact, I brought thank you gifts.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You didn't need to do that.”

“That's funny, that's just what Maru said.” I fix him with a comical look of sternness. “Look here, Doctor. I'll do as I please and if I feel like you need a thank you gift for patching me up, then you'll get that gift.”

He laughs, holding up both hands palm out in a conciliatory gesture. “Fair enough, fair enough.”

I pull out the package from my bag and hold it out to him. “Medium roast coffee beans. Courtesy of Berry Hill Farm.”

He takes the package, running his thumb over the brown paper, and there’s that smile again, the one that seems to light up his face. I’m thrilled that I’m already succeeding in making him smile more often. He looks up at me and the smile only grows. “Thank you, Wren. This is lovely.”

I give him a grin of my own, warmth rushing through my belly.

_Absolutely hopeless._

With a laugh I tell him, “You’re welcome, Harvey. See? Maybe you shouldn’t fuss about thank you gifts when you end up enjoying them so much.”

He chuckles. “Level of enjoyment is not commensurate with necessity.” He sets the package of coffee beans on the desk and holds out his hand, gesturing gracefully out of the office. “Shall we?”

“Why, yes. I do believe we shall.” With a solemn air, as dignified as though I’m being ushered to a dance floor, I step through the door and into the hall. Chuckling, Harvey follows. He holds the door as we reach the exam room and gestures to the bed. 

“Your throne, madam.” He moves to the cabinets, pulling supplies, and with the benefit of my new perspective, I watch him and smile to myself.

Harvey moves with a graceful sense of purpose around the room. I watch his hands, the movement of the shoulders, the way he occupies his space. For all of his seemingly fumbling awkwardness, there’s a fascinating sureness to him when he’s in his element.

The blooming crush pulses agreeably and I have to suppress a smile.

_Yoba, I’m being ridiculous._

Harvey returns to stand next to the bed, setting down a small stack of wrapped dressings and medical tape. “This won't take long. I just want to make sure that you're still doing okay. I’m not even sure we’ll need this if your wounds are looking as good as I hope they are.”

“Don't worry about me. This should be a snap compared to the last time I was here.”

A shadow seems to flit over his face for a moment and he looks down at the small pile of supplies on the bed, fidgeting a little. “Indeed.”

I quirk a smile, teasing him gently. “Harvey, are you blaming yourself again?”

He startles slightly and looks up to meet my eyes before looking away again, quickly. “I, um- I suppose a bit.” I can hear a strange note in his voice and my smile falls. Not quite a reluctance, but… I can’t quite figure it out. Curious. Harvey and his self-blame is hardly old news, yet this is different. I don’t want to pester it out of him, but I have a feeling that there is something important here. He is not forthcoming with any further information, however, and I hesitantly file my curiosity away. Perhaps there will be a better time later.

Regardless of deeper meaning, I still have no intention of letting him stew. I bump his upper arm with my elbow. “Stop it. You aren’t allowed to blame yourself.” I keep my voice light and teasing and, as hoped, he smiles and looks up at me.

“Not allowed, huh?”

“Nope. It’s an Edict of Wren. Dreadfully sorry to derail any plans you might have had but…” I pause ominously. “Rules are rules.” Harvey laughs and a thrill shivers through my belly at the sound. There is something so appealing about knowing I’ve made him happy. 

“Well, then. If there’s a law, I suppose I must obey it. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”

“A wise decision.” I put on my best ‘magnanimous dictator’ voice. “You wouldn’t want to incur my wrath, especially when you said yourself that this is a throne.”

“Certainly not.” Harvey smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and my heart surges a rush of giddiness that seems to trickle to my toes. It really has been much too long since I’ve felt this way and I know it’s ridiculous. I can’t bring myself to care, though. Not in the least. Not when it’s _Harvey._ He raises an eyebrow. “Well, wise rule maker, may I inspect my handiwork?”

Still feeling off-balance, I fight hard for equilibrium as I hold out one arm with a flourish. “You may.”

With a chuckle, he cups my forearm with one hand and inspects the injuries with a thoroughness I’d never have expected for such minor wounds. For my part, I have to focus hard on what he’s saying so that all of my attention is not absorbed in the sensation of his hands on my skin. His touch is deft and soft, fingers light as he carefully probes the skin around the scrapes. My thoughts slip slowly, despite my best efforts, to imagining his touch in an entirely less-than-professional context, until…

“Wren?”

My gaze snaps up to his face and I can feel the almost molten blush rising in my cheeks. “Um, yes?”

“I asked if anything had been painful.”

“Oh. Um. Just a bit. My arm was a little achy last night where the IV was, but I did what you said with the ice pack and it was just fine after that. My side’s been a little stiff, but nothing too bad.”

He nods. “Can you lift your shirt so I can take a look? I’ll change the dressing for you.”

My heart hammers and my hands tremble, but I manage to maintain control of myself enough to grasp the hem at the side of my shirt and lift it. The gash is right below my ribs so, fortunately, I don’t have to lift it far.

_Professional. He’s a professional. Get ahold of yourself. If you’re going to hit him up, it shouldn’t be on the exam table._

With deft movements, Harvey peels back the dressing on the site and scrutinizes the row of tiny, neat stitches. I can’t suppress an automatic response of goosebumps to have his attention focused so closely on me, but I manage to contain a shiver.

Harvey hums thoughtfully to himself, to all appearances nothing but the consummate professional. But there are high spots of color on his cheeks. 

_Interesting_.

Harvey clears his throat. “The stitches look good.” He sits back on his seat and braces his hands on his knees. “At this point, you should be ok to get the area wet. Showers only. No, um, baths. Don’t let the water hit directly on the area, just let it run over it. Pat it dry.”

I nod and sketch a salute with the hand not holding my shirt. “Got it. Do you want me to put my shirt back down?” The question is a bit of an impulsive challenge. I might be on the exam table, but I hadn’t expected him to be blushing like this. I can’t resist the urge to try to find out more. I want to see what his reaction is.

Harvey sputters and quickly covers it with a cough. “You, uh, can put your shirt down.”

I hide a smile as I lower the hem. _You didn’t say you wanted me to, Harvey._

Harvey clears his throat as he stands and steps close, brushing my hair back with careful fingers to examine the cut on my forehead. It’s all I can do to suppress a shiver and the instinct to lean into his touch. In an effort to distract myself and, curious as I watch his tie sway, I ask, “Do you ever dress down for work?”

One corner of his mouth quirks up. “I find it best to look the part of the professional. Tends to inspire more confidence.”

“You don't think that the formality would be off-putting to some people?”

He shrugs. “Quite possibly, but on the average, it works out well. For everyone that's put off by the tie like Alex, there's someone like George who would never accept a doctor in a T-shirt.”

I laugh. “That's a fair point.” George would likely have conniptions about even the prospect of being treated by a doctor who didn’t dress the part. Of course, George has conniptions about almost everything.

“Do you even own a t-shirt?” I ask Harvey and he looks at me questioningly. I gesture at him. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you in anything other than a buttoned shirt and usually a tie.”

He smiles. “I actually was wearing a t-shirt last night when you came in.

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

His lips tugging into a smile. “I’ll have to wear one again sometime soon. I can’t have you thinking I’m just a stodgy old doctor.”

“Never old. Stodgy? Eh!” I grin at him and wink.

He pulls a frown, but he’s laughing and the moment stretches, seeming full of potential. I had wanted to wait, but I can’t pass this up. I _want_ to say something. I _need_ to say something before I lose my nerve.

“Harvey, would you-”

“Wren, are you-”

Our words collide and we both fall into an awkward silence. He ducks his head and gestures to me. “You go ahead.”

An anxious giggle escapes me before I can stop it. Somehow it feels more awkward without blurting it and he’s standing there watching me so expectantly. I take a deep breath and forge into the unknown.

“Would you like to get some coffee?”

His eyes go wide and his blush deepens. “I- are you-” He puts his hands on his hips and squints at me. “Are you just trying to get some of your coffee back? Because it’s unfair to give a gift only to rescind it, Miss Wren.”

I giggle again, this time less anxious. Once more, he’s making me feel better by simply being himself. “Promise I'm not. That's all yours. As a matter of fact, I have more beans roasted at home if you want some more. No, I thought we could go get some coffee from the Stardrop and perhaps take a walk. I’m sure that my doctor would say that fresh air would be good for someone recovering as I am.”

He smiles and it creases the corners of his eyes. “He would, in fact, say so. I- I would like that, Wren. I would like that a lot” He holds out his hand and helps me down off the table. Once my feet are on the floor, I don’t let go of his hand right away, giving it a squeeze first. Those high spots of color are back and he clears his throat. 

“Demetrius brought your satchel down for you.”

“Oh, awesome! You know, I wouldn’t have minded a house call if you’d brought it by.” I wink at him and he blushes.

“I, well- I considered it but I, um- I didn't want to bother you if you were sleeping.” He looks genuinely discomfited at the idea that I might be upset with him for not bringing it.

“It's fine, Harvey. Don't worry about it.” He looks like he's about to speak and I fix him with a flat look, softening it with a smile. “I'm serious. Don't worry about it.”

He closes his mouth and smiles a little. “I suppose you know my tendencies too well.”

“You could say I've made Harvey-watching a hobby.”

He sputters and tries to cover by turning away to open the door.

“Can I ask what you have observed in your hobby.”

“You can," I tell him loftily. "I might even tell you.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Are you putting conditions on the release of information?”

“Something like that. I'm thinking of a trade-off: Have that coffee with me and I'll fill you in on my doctor observations.”

Harvey raises a comically suspicious eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling I'm letting myself in for more than I bargained for?”

I smile. “That depends. How sensitive are you to hearing observations about yourself?”

He huffs a little as he opens the door to his office and stands aside to let me through. “I’d like to think I can take it. Unless you plan on being particularly cutting.”

I give him a teasing grin. “Not _particularly_ , no. Perhaps just a little.”

Harvey bends down behind his desk and reemerges with my leather bag in his grasp. He hands it over to me with a lopsided grin. “I shall try to persevere with masculine stoicism under such scrutiny. I'll close up the shop at three.”

I can't resist teasing him. “What? You're not going to close the clinic two days in a row?”

He grimaces a little. “Believe me, I'm tempted. I still feel like I need to catch up on sleep, let alone taking your appealing offer as soon as possible. But, I have appointments today that I can't cancel and paperwork only waits for so long.”

A rush of happiness moves through me and, impulsively, I step forward and hug him. Something about him calling a simple arrangement for coffee ‘appealing’ sparks a warm and cozy feeling in my chest and I can’t resist the lure of a hug. Harvey makes a startled noise for a moment, but then he sets down my bag and I feel his arms come up around my shoulders. His embrace is warm and tight and feels better than I’d ever expected. I bask in the warmth and the sandalwood scent of him for a moment before murmuring against his chest, “I’m touched that you find it so appealing.”

He makes a soft noise and he hugs me tighter. “Time spent with a lovely woman instead of paperwork? What wouldn’t be appealing?”

Warmth rushes through me at his words and I hug tighter for a moment before forcing myself to step back and straightening his tie. “Thanks again for everything.” 

There's a twinkle and something odd in his eyes. I wonder what he's feeling about this. "Is that what this afternoon is? A thank you? Because you already brought me coffee to thank me."

I grin. “I'm extremely thankful and I know how you feel about coffee.”

He laughs. “I suppose I'm a bit of an open book in that respect.” He hefts my satchel once more and hands it over. I sling the strap crossbody and turn to leave, tossing a wink over my shoulder.

“Three o'clock. I’ll be waiting.”


	7. Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey and Wren get some time alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some small edits to the last chapter. In my tiredness of the late night last night, I didn't add as much narrative toward the end as I would have liked. Also fixed a few typos.

I turn the key in the door lock of the clinic, trying to control the butterflies in my stomach. Finishing work for the day had been a torment knowing that she would be waiting for me. All through the afternoon, the fluttering nervousness has been my constant, distracting companion. Time had inched by with glacial speed, but finally, I had made it to three o’clock.

Now that it’s time… the butterflies in my stomach have morphed into condors.

Wren’s hug had played like the refrain of a song in the back of my mind all day. The feeling of her arms around me, the solid warmth of her. It had been all I could do to let her go at the end. I’d teased her about this being simply more of a thank you for helping her. She’d taken the teasing in stride, but I couldn’t deny that there was a true kernel of worry to it. I wanted badly to believe that she could be interested in me as well. She had certainly _seemed_ to be flirting with me, even before that hug. I would have to see how the afternoon played out and, depending on how things went, find the best way to act. I smile at myself.

_I’ll have to screw my courage to the sticking place. Thank you, Lady Macbeth._

With the door locked, I turn to look around the square. Wren hadn’t been specific on where she would be and, for a moment when I see no sign of her, my heart drops to my gut.

 _Did she change her mind_?

But then, I catch sight of her in the greenspace to the side, her bag slung over her shoulder, beneath the tree I frequent when taking a break from work, my heart leaps straight up from my gut to its usual residence and pounds with such happiness that I worry for a moment I’ll faint before I can even speak to her. I take a deep, steadying breath as I make my way over to her, not even trying to keep the smile off my face.

As I reach her, Wren lifts a paper cup with a lid from the Stardrop Saloon and offers it to me. “Medium roast coffee, one sugar, splash of creamer.”

I take it with a smile and sip. It’s perfect. “Thank you. How did you know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I told you I'd made a hobby of Harvey-watching.”

 _Right_.

Embarrassment swells in me again at the idea that she has been observing me so closely. I’m having a hard time thinking that such a practice could mean anything other than interest similar to my own. Yet, anxiety insists on being a damper on my excitement until I know for sure.

I try to conceal my embarrassment in bluster. “If you’re threatening to be cutting with your observations, I would assume you’ve observed more than my coffee preferences. Just how in-depth has this hobby been?”

She laughs, and the sound tugs at my heart. “Harvey, you promised to be manfully stoic. Are you having second thoughts?”

I shake my head, taking another sip of coffee. “Not at all. Do your worst.”

She casts a look up at me through her lashes and smiles, an alluring lift to the corner of her mouth that sets my pulse to thundering in my ears. “Careful, Doctor. You were worried about letting yourself in for more than you bargained for. You haven’t seen what my ‘worst’ can be.”

“I’m willing to risk it to hear what you think of me.”

She blushes adorably. “I shall do my best not to disappoint.”

It’s a short walk to the river that runs south of town and we turn to follow it, meandering past the last houses.

It's a lovely day. The recent storms have prompted a burst of growth and everything seems bursting with green. All too soon, summer heat will dry out the landscape, but for now, the late spring seems verdant and full of promise.

I have to smile at myself. Since when have I been so focused on plants? The growth of green things has never been all that important to me. But I know what the answer is. It’s my company and the potent promise of this afternoon. Everything seems to have the potential to bloom and change and I’m brimming with anticipation.

We pass Leah’s house and turn to follow the river as it meanders past trees. I nudge Wren with my elbow. “So you promised me some observations.” I’m more than apprehensive about what she might say, both for the potential good and the potential bad, but my natural inclination towards curiosity has the better of me.

She looks up out of the corner of her eye. “Are you ready for this?” I could kiss the smile on her face and I find myself smiling despite my worry.

“I think I'm ready. I trust that you'll be gentle despite your threats.” 

She blushes, my first physical indication that she is receptive to me, and I inwardly revel. “Well,” she says, “I suppose the first and most obvious observation I've made is that you're a good man.”

“That would seem to cover a large amount of territory.”

“I'll admit it does, however, it is the most important one. There's a lot of other qualities that don't matter if that isn’t true.”

“I suppose so.” I blush. I've always been uncomfortable hearing praise about myself. “What other observations have you made?”

“Well, I've noticed that you like coffee.” She gestures to our coffee cups. “I know that you like wine and just about anything pickled. I know that you hate salmonberries and spiceberries. I know that your birthday is January 14th.” She seems a little embarrassed, as though her bravado is failing her. “I realized I don't know much about things like your hobbies. It seems like I only ever see you in the clinic or out in the Square or at a festival.”

A flash of regret darts through me. Even if we hadn't found ourselves taking this literal walk into a metaphorical unknown, Wren is my friend. I find myself wishing that I have forced myself to be more social rather than keeping to my accustomed withdrawn position. My interest in her aside, I have always genuinely enjoyed her company. I should have done more to spend time with her. 

“I like to assemble model airplanes,” I tell her quietly. “I've always liked the idea of flying but I couldn't be a pilot, so models and a ham radio to talk to pilots going by is as close as I can get.”

“What stopped you from being able to fly?” she asks, “I mean you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I’d just like to know, as your friend.”

“Anxiety and a fear of heights,” I mumble, chin tucked to my chest. I want her to know. I want her to know everything. But that doesn’t make it less painful to voice. “Turns out it doesn't matter how much you love the idea of something if you can't handle doing it.”

“I'm sorry about that, Harvey, but I admit I'm kind of glad.” She blushes lightly. “If you had become a pilot, you might never have come to the valley and we might never have met.”

Her words seem to strike a chord in me. I suppose I had thought of that before, that the act of not becoming a pilot led to me living in the valley, even if indirectly. But I think I had never quite put it all together. I wouldn't have met her if I fulfilled my first dream.

As I’m musing, I feel her hand slip into mine and squeeze gently. My heart stutters and thumps in my chest and I know without a doubt. Regardless of what has gone before, no matter past dreams, there is room for new hope.

She looks up at me and smiles softly. “I'm glad I'm here and I'm glad you're here.” Her words tickle out a thread of memory from earlier in the clinic when she was trying to reassure me.

_'I'm here now, Harvey. You’re here now. Everything is fine.'_

I’ve never been very good at being in the moment. By profession and anxious nature, I always seem to be looking ahead to the next problem, the next appointment, the next day on the calendar.

But the most compelling reason I’ve ever had to simply focus on the present is now right in front of me.

_I’m here, you’re here._

Here and now, I am with Wren, on this afternoon that seems so laden with promise, and I have a chance to change everything.

I squeeze her hand and I'm not sure what to say. 

The tumultuous feeling in my belly is amazing, but I need a distraction. As we finish our coffees and Wren stashes the cups in her bag, I ask her, “What about you? Are you ready to hear _my_ observations?”

She looks startled. “You've been watching me?”

“Oh, yes.” I can't contain a laugh at her reaction. “I've been watching you, too. You might call what I've been doing bird-watching.” I grin, waiting for her reaction to the pun and I'm not disappointed

After a beat, Wren groans and smacks me on the arm with the back of her hand. “That was awful Harvey. You should be ashamed.”

“Probably,” I agree amiably. “Do you still want to hear?”

“Yes. Although now I'm worried about more puns.”

“I'll try to restrain myself,” I tell her seriously, but with laughter in my voice.

“Well, you called me a lovely woman earlier. I assume that’s part of your observations.”

“It is indeed. Or at least, the summation of several other observations.”

She blushes beautifully. “Well doctor, don't keep me waiting.”

“You're generous. I have seen you willing to help even those you barely know. Granted, it is sort of cliche in a small town where everybody knows everybody and everybody helps everybody, but even when you were new I saw you always ready to jump in and lend a hand. That sort of giving nature isn't present in everybody.”

Wren is blushing brightly. “I just see what needs doing and I like to do what I can.”

“And that is admirable. You speak like it’s a common thing. It’s not.”

Wren clears her throat, her face still deeply red. “So I’m generous. What else?”

“You’re kind,” I murmur, slowing my walk so that I can focus on watching her. Speaking of what I find most lovely about her is curiously freeing and I find myself reveling in it. I yearn for her to know precisely how I feel about her. “I suppose that ties to being generous, but I think both are separate qualities that amplify each other. I have never seen or heard of you having a cross word with anyone and you are loved by everyone for your sweet nature. Even George likes you and he doesn’t like anyone.”

Wren ducks her head and I can faintly hear her mutter, “Yoba…”

I just smile. I have more to say, but I want to savor the chance to say it.

We come to a stop under a gnarled oak tree and stand for a moment looking over the river. A gray heron skims low over the surface of the water and I can see small animals skittering in the undergrowth. Trees overhang the water, shading it to a lovely blue-green, and flowers bloom everywhere. It’s lovely. 

“I should come down here more often. I never do normally.”

Wren casts me a surprised glance. “Why not? It's gorgeous, especially in the early morning.”

I shake my head wryly. “Well, as you have almost certainly noted in your observations, I tend to be on the extreme side of anxious. I always get to thinking about what might be out here. Bugs, snakes, wild animals, the possibility to slip on mud and fall in the river... At the end of the day, I end up just staying in town.”

“Don't worry,” Wren leans in with a confidential air, “I know these woods like the back of my hand. I'll protect you.”

I chuckle and grin. “My valiant defender.”

“You’re cute when you smile like that.”

The compliment catches me off guard and so I have no defenses when she leans up and kisses me on the cheek.

The touch of her lips is sweet and gentle and she stops there for a moment, not pulling away. Her breath fans against my cheek. Surprised, my heart pounding, I have no resistance against the impulse that prompts me to turn my head and brush my lips against hers.

It is hardly the most heated of kisses. It is only a feathered touch, the lightest of caresses, but lightning seems to arc through me. I have to suppress a deep groan that threatens to break free. I can feel Wren shiver against me and my heart leaps.

For all the brief contact, the kiss seems to freeze time. We stand as though transfixed, not daring to move and break the spell. 

“I have one last observation, Wren,” I whisper into the charged silence as I bring my hands up to cup her elbows as her hands light against my chest. “Would you like to hear it?”

Her eyes flutter closed and I can see her swallow hard. She nods and I whisper tenderly to her.

“You’re beautiful. I’ve described qualities that make for a lovely spirit, but I’d be criminally remiss if I did not call you beautiful in body as well. In this valley full of lovely things, you are the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

She tilts her face up and opens her eyes. The liquid hazel depths are alluring, tempting me to lose myself in them and simply drown in her. I cannot resist the temptation to kiss her again, another light as air caress, pulling back after a moment. She presses close to me, fingers clutching into the fabric of my shirt

I hold her close, hardly daring to believe what’s happening. I rest my forehead against hers and whisper, “Wren…”

“Harvey,” she whispers, “am I dreaming?”

I laugh softly. “If you are, then I am as well.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, let’s not ever wake.”

_______________

It seems like the most natural thing in the world to step closer to Harvey and wrap my arms around him. I need a moment to recalibrate myself after those kisses. Brief and unassuming, though they’d been, at least as far as kisses went, the touch of his lips had seemed to light a fire under my skin.

As my arms go around his waist, Harvey makes a contented noise and settles his arms around my shoulders. The sweet sound seems to pierce through me and I have a fierce desire to hear it again and again, as often as possible.

He seems to melt a little into the embrace, one hand coming up to cup the back of my head. Harvey buries his nose against my hair and another sigh escapes him. The sense of safety and comfort I’d realized I’d been feeling with him is compounded to an almost overwhelming degree.

_Yoba, help me. I’m done for._

My voice is muffled into his shirt as I mumble, “You give amazing hugs.”

I can feel his laughter rumbling in his chest. “I’m glad you think so. I think I can offer you unlimited access to them.”

I lift my head a little to look up at him and wink. “You think? You're not sure?” He grins and there is a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, I'll have to consider it. There's the matter of proper compensation...”

“So you're not an altruist? A pity.”

“Well,” he says consideringly, “I might be persuaded to change my mind. After all, the act itself does come with compensation.”

“And what would that be?” I’m grinning and I can’t help it. Bantering with him is a pleasure all its own and I love it.

Harvey winks at me. “That I get to hold you.”

My eyes go wide and I can feel my face heat in a blush. Harvey just watches me, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Finally, I manage to sputter. “I, uh- I suppose that’s fair enough.”

“That’s reassuring,” he murmurs and kisses my forehead. “I’m glad we have an accord.”

There is nothing I’d like more than to simply stay curled into him the rest of the day, possibly for the rest of our lives. But we can’t stay standing on the banks of the river forever. So, after a moment, I draw back reluctantly. Unable to bear separating from him fully, I slip my hand into his. Harvey looks as regretful as I feel at the separation and his warm hand squeezes my fingers as we resume walking. 

After a bit, we reach a huge elm at the edge of the water. The roots have formed a natural hollow in the soft grass, almost beckoning. It is too strong of a temptation and I’m almost aching to feel his arms around me again. I nod toward the elm.

“Would you like to sit for a bit?”

“That sounds lovely.”

We move beneath the tree and Harvey sinks down onto the grass, his back against an arching root. I drop my bag and sit next to him, scooting close against his side and Harvey hums as he lifts his arm to drape it across my shoulders.

We sit in silence for a time, watching the water slip by and the birds go about their lives. Harvey finally breaks the quiet, speaking haltingly.

“There’s… a lot I want to say, Wren. I’m not sure I will be able to get it out without stammering myself senseless.”

“That’s ok. We can pretend later that it was stammer free.” I reach up and take his hand draped on my shoulder. “I want to hear what’s on your mind.”

He takes a deep breath and seems to try to center himself. “Wren, I- Since you first came to the valley I've been drawn to you and too afraid to say anything. Right before Linus brought you to the clinic, I had been in my apartment kicking myself for not ever saying anything to you. Then you came in and it seemed like such a push from the universe to actually act. But I’m still afraid. Wren, you've come to mean a great deal to me in the time you've been in the village. I've never quite had a friend like you.”

The similarity between what he is describing and my own situation is ironic, though the timeframes differ. I can’t hold in a laugh. Harvey immediately falls silent and looks away. I can almost feel him withdraw. Before he can physically pull back, I take his hand reassuringly, mentally kicking myself. I know perfectly well how his nerves would be affecting him.

“Harvey, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not laughing at you. Would you believe I’ve been thinking much the same way?”

He stills and, after a moment, meets my eyes and whispers, “Truly?” There is heart-breaking hope in his voice.

I nod. “Very much so. I'll admit it hasn't been as long. When I first came to the valley, and for a long time after, I was so focused on getting the farm running that I didn't have much room to think about anything else. But, I think I've been feeling for you as more than a friend for a long time even though I only realized it recently. If you're interested, I'd like to try.”

His smile is soft and he lifts his hand to cup my cheek as he whispers. “I think it's a fair bet to say that I'm interested.” I tilt my head up as he leans down and the kiss seems to both seal and promise, enclosing all that had gone before while blooming with dizzying potential.

When Harvey draws back, I smile at him, a little breathless. “Looks like we have another accord. Just think, it only took risking my life for us to get out of our own ways.”

Harvey’s eyes go wide and he whispers, a crack in his voice. “Please… please don’t joke about that.” His arm around me tightens, and I sit up straighter, looking at him questioningly.

“Harvey?”

There is a miserable look on his face and when he speaks, it’s barely over a whisper. “I was terrified that night, Wren. Not just because I thought I might lose the chance to tell you how I felt, but because I thought I might lose… you. I worry about you.”

“Harvey, you worry about everyone and everything,” I try to tease him gently, squeezing his hand, but he shakes his head.

“I do worry. I know I do, but… I- I care about you. All I could think about when you were on that bed was that I might have missed my chance to ever tell you.”

“I’m here now, Harvey. You’re here now.” I tell him softly, “You haven’t missed anything.”

He smiles a little, despite the roil of emotion in his gaze. “I suppose I haven’t at that.” 

“I’m sorry that I scared you,” I tell him earnestly, stroking my thumb over his cheek.

He gives me a crooked smile, leaning into the caress a little. “I suppose it doesn’t mean as much since so much scares me, but…”

I lay a finger over his lips, his mustache tickling my fingertip. “You hush. It means a lot. I’ve never had anybody who cared enough to be scared for me before.”

He smiles beneath my touch. “Rest assured, I both care and worry enough to make up for any previous shortfalls.” He sighs. “We wasted so much time.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps things happened exactly as they needed to.”

I lift my finger from his lips and reach up, tucking errant curls behind his ear. I vividly remember the impulse I had to run my fingers through his hair and I give in to that impulse now, combing the soft locks at the side of his head. Harvey closes his eyes and leans into the touch, a soft smile on his face.

“That feels good.”

“I’m glad. I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.”

“Oh? Does the reality meet your expectations?”

“Surpasses.”

He laughs a little. “I’m glad to hear it. This unruly mess needs some appreciation.”

“It’s perfect. I won’t hear a word said against it.” I’m not just talking about his hair and I wonder if he realizes it. Running my fingers deeper into the silk of his hair, I tell him softly, “Every bit of you deserves appreciation, Harvey. You are more than I ever expected.”

He blushes brightly and I smile. He is so endearingly awkward in the face of praise.

Harvey reaches up and takes my hand, bringing it down to press a kiss to my palm. My skin seems to tingle at the touch of his lips. He is still, simply breathing, for long moments before he opens his eyes.

His fingers tremble slightly against my hand. “Wren, I…” Harvey pauses, words seeming to fail him.

I smile. He’s adorable.

Unable to resist, I kiss him again, light and quick, almost a tease more than anything else.

Harvey makes a soft noise and his hand drops from my shoulder to splay against my back as though he wants to pull me closer, but he hesitates. His breath is warm against my cheek.

I pull back from the kiss just enough to whisper, “Do I need to say ‘yes’, again?”

He chuckles, sounding a little breathless. “Perhaps not. But I think I’d like to hear it anyway, just to remind myself that this is real.”

“Yes.”

He leans up and presses his lips to mine. 

My arms slip around his shoulders, we melt into the kiss, and the moment is perfect.


	8. Epilogue- Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the Valley continues, the same and yet so different.

A saloon in a small town has no shortage of casual observers. In a place where everyone knows everyone, the obvious corollary is that everyone knows everything. With luck, there is no rancor, no acrimonious gossip, but small town life is not one in which secrets stay secret for long. Then again, there are times when the corollary fails and even the rumor mill of a small town fails to foresee an event.

The Stardrop Saloon of Pelican Town is, as usual, bustling on Saturday night. Friendly games of pool turn into good-natured ribbing as friends win and lose. Neighbors catch up after the long week and the atmosphere is one of noisy enjoyment.

In the corner booth, however, there seems to be an oasis of calm. The duo of occupants trade friendly greetings with any who pass, but they soon turn back to each other and it is clear to all who see them that the room might as well be empty.

The rest of the patrons don’t watch overtly. That would be rude. But no one can help stealing glances at the pair. No one had guessed this outcome. Or at least almost no one. Of all the occupants of the saloon, at one table, a father and daughter share a grin and a knowing look and fist bump each other.

For the pair in the booth, there is a clear newness to how they move around each other. There is awkwardness still between them. He makes some comment, blushes, and ducks his head away in embarrassment until she cups his cheek to bring him back. When their hands brush each other on the tabletop, she colors and nearly pulls back until he takes her hand and squeezes.

As the night wears on, however, the awkwardness seems to fall away, leaving only a comfortable warmth.

At the end of the night, as the gathering begins to dissipate, the townsfolk preparing for their journeys home, more than a few still sneak looks at the occupants of the booth. For all the unexpectedness of the development, there is no ill will. Everyone of the small town knows the doctor and the farmer and even if there had been doubts as to their suitability, their clear absorption in each other would put such nay-saying to rest.

Love has come to Stardew Valley and its  radiance emanates as the pair clasp hands in preparation to walk together into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that “Illumination” is done, I will be taking a break for a little bit to work on my other fics and to plot out the next story for Wren and Harvey. There will be many, many more stories with them in this series and I can't wait to share them.


End file.
